Several characters in near-future California see their lives deadened by ceaseless gaming and virtual-reality binges in this sequel to Cressman’s Reality™2048: Watching Big Mother (2019).

The story is set in 2065, 17 years after the previous SF-series installment, following the establishment of a postwar, worldwide superstate called Globalia. Most of Earth’s population, and nearly everyone in Southern California, squander their lives in monetized online indolence, passively absorbing entertainment on VR TV, including CGI remakes of old TV shows or total-immersion videogames. A few rebels, including members of a charity-nun sisterhood, resist, but most sit in minimalist, wired-up dwellings watching content with ads placed by Timeless Warning, WhamZong, FederalExcess, and others. Meandering plotlines follow characters in and out of VR, with some trying to trace Vera, the first book’s protagonist. A statistician for the Department of Information, she tried to think for herself and was punished with government brainwashing. Among those on her trail are former therapist and tormentor Aneeka Randall of the Department of Prosperity; dealmaker Caspian Blaine, who appears to thrive in this infotainment culture; and Vera’s ex-lover Chase, a faded screenwriter who posts thoughts such as “We have no place to go, no job, no friends, not even any clothes.” Rolling power outages and cryptocurrency failures suggest imminent catastrophe. Cressman’s argot-heavy novel is Kurt Vonnegut–like in its satire and offers a Bruegel-like canvas in its sweep. It will likely be disorienting to newcomers, but a supplementary glossary is fun, snarky reading all by itself. The work effectively spoofs such timewasters as social media, the Big Brother franchise, and the violent videogame Grand Theft Auto. The author, a California-based political activist and former candidate for secretary of state, depicts a future of digital consumerism run amok that should generate shocks of recognition for present-day readers—although they may not buy the happy-ending wrap-up, which even includes ponies.

A witty, if slow-scrolling, tale of a dysfunctional future.

In a setting similar to Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, corporations suppress independent thought through a constant stream of media content.

In this novel, the year is 2048. The population of the international superstate known as Globalia is divided into the elite Establishment and the pedestrian Vues (a name derived from their status as viewers). Citizens experience the world through MyScreens or MyndScreens: devices that, depending on income, are worn as helmets or implanted directly into the brain. An individual’s activity is monitored by the SpeidrWeb™, and anomalies are retired to entertainment homes where content is streamed to them without pause. Vera works in the Department of Information, researching statistics for public announcements. Bored by the ceaseless barrage of infotainment and annoyed by her co-workers’ fixation with the reality TV series Big Mother Gets Real, she uses meditation to achieve a heightened awareness of the physical world. She becomes increasingly disillusioned with her work, realizing that while factually correct, the information broadcasted to the public is usually misleading. Her questioning soon leads her to other rebels, including a charming screenwriter named Chase, with whom Vera becomes romantically involved, and a mysterious legal expert whom she suspects is part of the legendary resistance group the Luddyte Sisterhood. Cressman (The Recall’s Broken Promise, 2007, etc.) draws heavily from the format of Nineteen Eighty-Four, complete with an internal manifesto explaining the history of the Globalian regime. In addition to addressing overstimulation and corporate control, he illustrates the future of social media, relationships, economics, agriculture, warfare, and the devolution of speech into a collection of emojicons. The world he creates is well developed, filled with clever commentary and leavened by satirical situations. But the execution suffers from occasional heavy-handedness. For instance, Vera’s observation that “No infotain firm, no avatar creator, not a single living person has yet created a sound as authentic as the laugh of a child” feels more sentimental than substantive. Although the plot will be very predictable to anyone familiar with Orwell’s writing, the conclusion still manages to deliver a powerful emotional wallop. This modern tribute brings a sense of relevance and urgency to a dystopian classic.

A potent and sobering wake-up call.